Speak Now
by MJoftheday
Summary: Not only did Rory not want to go, she REALLY did not want to go. But Jess was her friend, after all, and she knew it would mean the world to him if she attended. And it's not like her absence could go unnoticed, what with her stepfather being the best man, and everything. So she manned up, put on a pretty little lilac-colored number, and went to the ceremony. Literati. Two-shot.
1. Speak Now

**A/n: **Yes, of course, this was inspired by Taylor's "Speak Now" but also the Jonases' "Wedding Bells". I've intended it to be a two-shot, but we'll see. If you're interested in seeing face claims for my OCs, I pictured Caroline as Lisa Sheldon and Gabriel as Gael García Bernal.

**Disclaimer**: If I owned "Gilmore Girls" it would not have ended the way it did.

* * *

**Speak Now**

* * *

_You are cordially invited to celebrate the matrimonial union of_

_Mr. Jess Lucas Mariano_

_and_

_Miss Caroline Lorraine Jenkins_

_On Saturday evening_  
_October the sixth_  
_at five o'clock_  
_Thirty-five North Winchester_  
_Avenue, Philadelphia, PN_  
_followed by a reception_

_R.S.V.P. 215.555.0125_

* * *

Not only did Rory not want to go, she _really_ did not want to go. But Jess was her friend, after all, and she knew it would mean the world to him if she attended. And it's not like her absence could go unnoticed, what with her stepfather being the best man, and everything. So she manned up, put on a pretty little lilac-colored number, and went to the ceremony.

Her six-months-pregnant mother nearly attacked Rory when she saw her. Her emotions were pretty up and down these days. "There she is!" Lorelai bellowed, loud enough for the entire chapel to hear. "My beautiful little loin-fruit! Come to remind her ill-fated, expectant mother of just how old she really is!"

Rory laughed. "Hey, mom," she said and squeezed her best friend back just as tightly.

"Your mom was worried you weren't gonna make it, kid," came from her mom's husband.

"Oh, _please_!" Lorelai turned to him. "_I'm_ not the one that was all,_ 'Where's Rory? Why isn't Rory here yet? Do you think she's coming? You should call her and see if she's still coming. Should I tell Jess she's not coming? Jess is gonna be so upset that she's not coming!'_"

Luke's cheeks turned a shade and he rolled his eyes and shifted standing positions uncomfortably. "I don't think it went _exactly_ like that," he said. "Your mother's exaggerating."

Lorelai put her hands on her hips dramatically. "Now, Rory. Have you ever, in all your years, known your mother to exaggerate?"

Rory just laughed again and gave Luke a hug. "It's good to see you guys."

And then little Will came galloping down the aisle. "'Ory, 'Ory, 'Ory!" He was still having a bit of trouble with those _'R'_s.

"Hey, little man!" Rory knelt down and pulled her three-year-old brother into her arms.

"I _missed_ you, 'Ory!" His smile was so big that his eyes were barely open, little half-moons of what can only be described as childish joy.

"Well, I missed you, too, Willy!" She heard Luke scoff from behind her. He hated when she called his son that.

Will tugged on Rory's hair. "'Ory, Cousin Jess says to go see him when you get here."

Rory shot a tentative look up at Luke.

Luke sighed and nodded, answered her look with a tone that said he didn't really want to answer it. "He's been asking for ya since we got here. He's in a room in the back."

Will pointed back up the aisle. "C'mon, 'Ory. I'll show you!"

This time, it was Lorelai who Rory shot a look at.

Lorelai held out her arms for her son. "No, baby. Daddy and me want you to stay right here with us. Let Rory have some alone time with Jess."

Will's tiny brows pulled together in confusion. "Like when you and Daddy have alone time?"

Luke's eyes went wide and Lorelai giggled and Luke took Rory by the arm and showed her to the back room. He rapped his knuckles against the white-painted wood. "Jess, Rory's here." Then Rory watched Luke leave.

Before she could even get nervous, the door opened to show Jess Mariano as handsome as ever in his black tailored tuxedo but still wearing that stupid smirk on his face. "Well. Hey, there, stranger."

"Hey, you." She wanted to hug him, but she didn't feel that it was appropriate, so instead she just gave him a playful punch on the arm, but it turned out super awkward and she wished she would've just gotten over herself and hugged him. He was hers before he was Caroline's, anyway.

Jess stepped back from her, looked her up and down, whistled. "Damn, Gilmore. Lookin' good."

She laughed, grateful to him for breaking the tension with a joke. "And you look..." She paused for a moment, searching for the right word to describe the boy that was standing before her. And that's when she realized she no longer saw him as a boy – the rebel without a cause, the angsty teenaged hoodlum – but as a man. "Older."

He smirked and opened the door wide and moved to the side, inviting Rory in. She didn't want to go in. She knew better than to go down this path – it would only lead to bad things. But she went in, anyway.

"So, how's it going over at _The Times_? I haven't talked to ya in a while."

Yeah, Rory'd finally done it. After all those years of studying and studying and studying and climbing up social ladders and up corporate food chains and interviewing and interviewing and interviewing... she'd finally done it. Landed her dream job as a journalist for _The New York Times_. And it was super hectic and didn't leave room for much else, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't love every minute of it.

"It's really, really great. I love it just as much as I did back when I started."

He smiled at her. And not one of those smirks that Jess was known for, but a real, genuine Mariano smile. And she couldn't help but to smile back.

"Yeah? Well, I'm glad. That's good to hear."

"Well, what about you? How's the publishing thing going?"

Jess had continued on working in publishing, although he wasn't at Truncheon anymore. He was now working at a bigger company somewhere in downtown Philadelphia that was a little more known and a little more mainstream. She knew he missed the underground beatnik, if not small-town vibe of Truncheon, but she also knew he didn't miss the small-town pay.

"It's good; it's good. I kinda hafta be a pushover since I'm still pretty low on the chain, but I get to read a lot of good stuff from a lot of unknowns. And that's the freshest stuff, yenno? The unknown authors who haven't yet been influenced by fame or fans or the media or their own vanity or the pressure to be better than they were before... That's the stuff worth reading."

She loved the sappy look on his face he always got when he talked about his work. "And what about yourself? Any plans to write again yet?" The question she always asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, smirked. "I've been playing around with a few ideas, but none of them seem too promising at the moment."

Rory smiled wide. There was nothing she wanted more for Jess than for him to be happy and to be doing his best work. And she knew that writing was just that for him. "You should do it. Write again, I mean. I thought you did so well the first time."

He scoffed, but there was playfulness behind it. "Yeah, well. You're the only one."

"I'm serious, Jess! You could be so great if you just sit down and try! I've gotten to be one hell of a proofreader... I could beta you!"

Jess smirked again and looked at her as if she was his childhood home after a long time away, a look that made her stomach flip. "Same old Rory."

And then they were just standing across from each other and looking at each other. And it wasn't awkward – it wasn't awkward at all.

But Jess ruined it by clearing his throat after a few moments and lifting his hand to show Rory a black bowtie. "Hey, uh... would you by any chance know how to put on a bowtie?"

She grinned. "Isn't your best man supposed to be in charge of this sorta thing?"

"Honestly, Rory. Do you actually think Luke has the slightest idea of how to put on anything other than a plaid flannel button-down and a backwards baseball cap?"

Rory laughed aloud at that one which no doubt prompted Jess to go on.

"And Chris is probably out there checking out the bridesmaids, or what he keeps referring to as the _'babe pool'_ that he plans on swimming in tonight. And Matthew is somewhere pretending to be in charge of this whole shindig even though he's really not... And Jimmy or T.J. would help except for the fact that I banned T.J. from coming near me around three hours ago, and I don't even know if Jimmy decided to show up at all."

Rory knew that, despite the way Jess spoke of his father so nonchalantly, it still hurt him. She tried to lighten the mood with a joke. "Looks like everyone just abandoned you in your most desperate time of need!"

He smirked and said, "Well, it's a good thing you're here, then."

Rory's stomach knotted up and it felt worse than the flip.

She took the tie from his hand and began to tie it under the collar around his neck. The proximity was so close – too close – and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her forehead as she finished up the tie. It reminded her of two years ago and almost made her dizzy. She flattened the bowtie out and then Jess's hands were around her wrists, holding her palms to his chest. She looked up at him slowly, dangerously, and his gaze was warm and friendly and reminiscent and not at all cold-footed.

"I'm really glad you came, Ror."

"Yeah. Me, too."

They just looked at each other again for a few moments.

But then Jess's got eyes wide and bright like a puppy when its owner had just returned home from work in the afternoon. "You're coming to the reception after, right?"

In truth, Rory hadn't been planning on staying for the reception. The ceremony would surely do her enough heartache for one day. Or a week. Or maybe a lifetime. But the way he was looking at her... she just couldn't say no.

"Good. I know Caroline will be just thrilled to see you."

_Thrilled? Since when did Jess speak so..._ Rory thought, but couldn't find the right word_. Since when did he use the world 'thrilled' in casual conversation? And so un-ironically? _She didn't know. She supposed she didn't know much about Jess these days.

Then there was a familiar rap at the door and they immediately jumped away from each other as if they'd been doing something wrong. (It reminded Rory of all the times they'd be horizontal on the couch upstairs at Luke's and he'd come up pretending to be looking for something and they'd spring apart.)

Luke was, of course, the source of the rapping, just like the old days. He told them that it was almost time and that Rory should go take a seat up front with her mom and that Jess should probably start making his way up to his spot at the altar.

Jess nodded and took a shaky breath and laughed aloud at himself nervously.

_Since when did Jess Mariano get nervous?_

"Well, how do I look?" he asked.

"Like you're about to get married," Rory said with a laugh even though she didn't find it very funny.

He breathed a sigh of relief and laughed again, too. "Good. That's what I was going for."

Luke started tapping his fingers against the doorframe impatiently, so Jess looked at his old friend one last time. "See ya on the other side?"

"Yeah." She gave what she hoped was a 'good luck' smile and not a sad one. "See ya."

* * *

Four years ago was when Luke and Lorelai had finally gotten married. It wasn't long after they'd reconciled – Lorelai'd said she wanted to get it done before Luke did something reckless like give her an ultimatum. Rory'd laughed at that. Luke hadn't.

The ceremony was small, held in the town square, the nuptials taking place at the foot of the gazebo. Lorelai wore white and Rory wore soft pink and they had flowers in their hair and everyone was there and everything was perfect.

And Jess had even driven in to be the best man.

It was the first time Rory had seen him since that awful night at Truncheon when she'd kissed him only to profess her love for Logan and run out on him. She figured he'd be sullen about it, hold a grudge and make her feel guilty. But he didn't.

Instead, he made her feel seventeen all over again, especially the night of the rehearsal dinner, the eve of the wedding, when they'd both had one too many drinks and she'd let him take her home with him, back up to the apartment above the diner where they'd spent many an hour back in the day.

And then she'd let him have her again the night of the wedding.

He asked her to come back with him to Philly. And she'd wanted to, she really did, but she had a few interviews lined up for the following month that she just couldn't miss. So, they made a compromise. She would live with him for a month, but then she'd go back to New York, and that would be that. They'd have their fun, get their fill of each other one last time, and then move on for good.

They spent most of that month at coffee shops, at book stores, at Truncheon, or in bed. And it was the most fun Rory'd had in so, so long. But time came and went too quickly, and it was back home before she knew it.

It turned out that she bombed both of her interviews because she was so hung up on her old high school boyfriend. Go figure.

So she'd packed her things, paid the final lease on her apartment, and showed up at Jess's place without notice, standing with her suitcase in the rain. And he didn't say anything. He just opened the door and let her in.

Jess got Rory an editing job at Truncheon, but she hated working with him – he was surprisingly nitpicky! – so she'd settled for a waitressing job at a diner while she put in applications at newspapers in the area. And she was happy. Most of the time.

The fights were terrible and often. They left Rory in tears and threatening to leave, and Jess would ask her where she was planning on going, and she would realize she didn't have anywhere else to go, and that would only make her cry harder. But then Jess would hold her and tell her he was sorry and that he loved her and to stay, _please,_ stay. And she did. Because, despite everything, she loved him, too. Terribly.

But all the writing jobs fell through. And she loved being at home with Jess, but she hated waitressing. And so did her mom.

"You're better than that," Lorelai would say. "You have a college degree and you're wasting it."

"But I love him," Rory would reply.

But, sometimes, even that wasn't enough.

Jess understood to an extent. He loved his job, and he couldn't imagine waking up every day to go and spend eight hours doing something that he hated. She'd offered for him to come to New York, promised that he could get a wonderful publishing job in New York, but Truncheon was his home. So he told her he loved her. And that he had always loved her. And that he always would love her.

And then he let her go.

* * *

The decorations were pretty, pastel, poised, and not at all Jess-like. From what little Rory remembered of Caroline, she could confidently gather that Caroline was the pretty, pastel, and poised one of the two.

Jess's hair was all gelled back like he used to do it and he looked super uncomfortable in his tuxedo but also super in love whenever Caroline came walking down the aisle like the high school homecoming queen. Which she had been, of course. Rory knew this because she'd Googled Caroline Jenkins as soon as Jess had written about her only ten short months ago. Maybe it had been a little stalker ex-girlfriendish of Rory, but she'd felt it her personal duty as the one who knew Jess better than anyone else in the world (except maybe now) to make sure that Caroline was good enough for him. And Rory's conclusion? She wasn't. But, then again, no one was. Not even herself.

No, especially not herself.

As the couple took each others' hands and took their places at the altar, Lorelai squeezed Rory's hand herself. She must've been able to sense how uncomfortable this was making her daughter, watching her ex-flame – vagabondish and unreliable Jess – finally settle down.

Rory began to wonder when she would settle down herself. The future she envisioned was blurry, and she couldn't quite tell who the groom was, but she was sure it wasn't Gabriel. This groom was shorter, and his hair wasn't as long, but he _was _part Italian. And his smile was crooked. Or maybe that was a smirk she saw?

She shook her head, ridding herself of the thought. Thinking that way would get her nowhere.

She doubted she'd ever settle down. Sure, she wanted it, the whole nine yards! The house with the wrap-around porch, the kids, the golden retriever, the minivan. But maybe that life just wasn't cut out for her. She lost faith in it more and more every day.

As the priest began, Luke looked into the audience at Lorelai. Rory could see it on his face, that intense love he harbored for her mother, had harbored for so many years. So many years he'd spent pining for her – watching her stumble from guy to guy and getting engaged but not married and then married without being engaged and just standing by and watching and being the friend, always just the friend. Until Lorelai had gotten her head out of the clouds for one second and saw what was right in front of her, just like Luke was looking at what was right in front of him now.

And Rory saw the way her mother was looking back at Luke with a look that matched his own, even as little Will, who had served as the ringbearer, was standing at Luke's feet and picking his nose.

And Rory wanted it. She wanted it all.

* * *

Rory and Jess had parted as friends. They'd agreed that while it was probably best not to see each other (because that only led to one place – the bedroom – and the bedroom complicated things) unless it was at holidays with the family back in Stars Hollow, they still wanted to keep in contact. They began e-mailing each other back and forth regularly, talking about work and books and Luke and Lorelai and how big little Will (who'd been concieved and born all while they'd been living together in Philadelphia) was getting and God knows what else. Until Jess met a girl.

Her name was Caroline, and she was a cousin of his buddy Matthew's from work. Matthew had thought Jess to not be doing his best work because he was lonely, when in reality it was just because he was still hung up on his old high school girlfriend. So Matthew had attempted to play matchmaker and introduced them.

It was all just a joke at first. Jess had agreed to go out to dinner with Caroline just to appease his friend. But then they had actually sort of hit it off, despite her being the cousin of such an annoyingly OCD guy. But apparently she wasn't like that, because Jess's e-mails had started coming less and less frequently.

Rory eventually met someone else. She did an interview alongside a guy for a position at _The New York Times. _His name was Gabriel, and he was Italian. They'd both interviewed for the job, and Rory had gotten it, but Gabriel was handsome and foreign, so after the interview she'd let him take her out for coffee when he'd asked. And, before she knew it, he was staying more nights at her place than he did at his own.

Gabriel was really sweet and intelligent and funny and interesting. And she really liked him. But sometimes he would keep mini-paperbacks in the back pocket of his jeans, and Rory had to ask him to stop doing it. She claimed it was because she couldn't stand to see a good book bent out of shape, which was partially true. But only she knew the real reason.

Her... and one other person.

When the holidays came, Lorelai had suggested that Rory bring Gabriel home with her since his family was back in Italy.

Rory had insisted that he couldn't because he had already made other plans with a cousin who lived in Ohio. And that was true, but even if he had been free she still didn't think she'd have invited him. And it had only taken a few moments of silence on the phone for Lorelai to guess the real reason for Rory's hesitation.

"_Ror, that part of your life is over. You can't let Jess dictate your decisions anymore."_

"That's not it, it's just... Things are already going to be uncomfortable between us. I don't wanna make it any worse."

"_Mhmm. Or you wanna be seen to him as still available."_

"Mom—"

"_A lil' cousin flirtin' never hurt anybody! Heck, we can pretend we're down yonder in Weezyana. Make it all normal seemin'!"_

"Your southern accent sucks."

"_Bring Gabriel."_

"He's got plans."

"_Fine. Suit yourself."_

And when Rory had showed up back home, she'd realized just why exactly Lorelai had been prompting her to bring a date.

Luke had closed up the diner and Lorelai had decorated it all Christmasy and they'd pushed all the tables up together to make one big long one for optimal dish space and massive amounts of elbow room. Or, Rory'd found out the hard way, it was because they were making room for one more person than usual. Jess was bringing home a plus one.

Caroline was actually really nice, so nice that it made Rory sick to her stomach. _No one_ was that nice. And when Caroline laughed, it was like a tinkling of fairies' wings or something equally children's book. And that's what she was, Rory had learned. She wrote and illustrated children's books. How perfectly small-town and dainty.

Her hair was long and wavy and just the right shade of auburn so that you'd know it was all natural and not from a box or a salon even, and her eyes were wide and green and her cheeks were rosy and freckle-sprinkled. And she was tall and thin and wore heels even though it made her a few inches taller than Jess when she stood next to him and clutched his arm with her perfectly manicured fingers. And Jess looked at her like she was the sun.

Rory'd cried herself to sleep that night, and back then, she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out why. So she'd blamed it on PMS and hugged Caroline goodbye the next morning and gave Jess a small smile but no hug and then went back to her apartment in New York and back to Gabriel and back to her life and drowned herself in coffee and immersed herself in her work to rid herself of the way Jess, who'd used to treat her like the center of his universe, had somehow managed to make her feel so small.

* * *

They were reciting their vows now, and Rory found herself wishing that she'd opted to sit near the back so that she could slip out easily. She closed her eyes and squeezed her mother's hand and tried to forget where she was and whose wedding she was attending. But closing her eyes only proved to make matters worse, because as Rory listened to the faint wind chimes of Caroline's voice, she imagined that it was her own.

"To have and to hold..."

"To love and to cherish..."

"In sickness and in health..."

"'Til death do us part..."

Then the clearing of the priest's voice and, "You may now present each other with the rings."

There was a short rustling from the stage and laughter ensued from the audience. Rory assumed one of them was having difficulties fumbling to get the ring on the other's finger. The majority of the laughter came from the groom's side, she thought. Or maybe it just seemed that way because that's where she was sitting. She didn't open her eyes to confirm or deny her hunch. It made no difference either way.

There was silence, and then the age-old quote came from the priest: "If there is anyone here today that has reason to object to the union of these two young people, speak now or forever hold your peace."

A millisecond passed, and a collective gasp of shock made its way through the crowd. Suddenly, Rory's heart was beating much too fast for her to conjure up the courage to open her eyes and see why... And not only why they were gasping, but also why her heart was pounding so... With deductive reasoning, she came to the conclusion that she was nervous. Why was she nervous?

Rory idly realized that Lorelai wasn't holding her hand anymore when she felt a small tug on the skirt of her dress and heard a worried hiss escape from out of what sounded like her mother's clenched teeth, and Rory couldn't figure out why her mother would want her to open her eyes and witness the person that was objecting. What did it matter? Jess and Caroline were, in her mind, already married. And Rory didn't want to watch.

She heard some light murmuring start across the crowd, but it crescendoed as the seconds ticked by. Why wasn't the priest going on? Why wasn't he pronouncing them man and wife? Rory felt a bead of cold sweat trickle down the back of her neck and squeezed her eyes shut tighter.

"Rory...?" came a soft but confused voice from the distance before her, years away, lifetimes away, worlds away. A voice she recognized. But why... Why was he saying her name?

In answer to the voice, she sucked in a shaky breath and her heart picked up its pace and Rory hesitantly opened her eyes to see the red hot face of the bride, and, next to her, the sickly pale face of the groom, both staring at her with incredulous eyes.

And that's when she looked down at her feet and realized she was standing.


	2. Speak Up

**Disclaimer: **Important people who own television shows don't waste their time writing sloppy fanfics.

* * *

**Speak Up**

* * *

Rory sat at her laptop at the kitchen counter doing a last minute proofread over her latest article when she heard a knock at the door. Puzzled, she looked down at the time at the bottom right of the screen – 2:01. Who the hell was outside her place at two am?!

She tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole and almost dropped her mug of coffee to the floor at her feet.

She hurriedly opened it and an intoxicated-looking Jess Mariano stumbled through Rory's front door.

"Jess! What are you..."

Jess dragged his eyes up to her face. "Rory," he said as if he was surprised to see her, and then he leaned in (or more like flung himself inward) and attached his lips to hers before she could stop him. He tasted like alcohol.

Disgusted, Rory put her hands on his shoulders and shoved him back, stepping away from him. "Jess, you're drunk!"

Jess opened his mouth to protest, probably, but Rory cut him off. "Jess, did you _drive_ here?!"

He shook his head a little too violently. "No, I... I took the bus."

Rory's eyes went wide. "You took the_ bus_... all the way from Philadelphia?!"

"Yeah, I need... I needed to see you..." Jess attempted again to kiss her, which she managed to block this time.

She didn't know what happened to make Jess this way... She'd _never_ seen him drunk like this... like,_ Logan_ drunk. Nor did she know why, whatever had happened, he felt like he had no one to go to except his ex-girlfriend almost a hundred miles away. But she could see that he obviously needed some comforting, and as much as it pained her, she would have to be the one to do it.

Rory put her arms around his shoulders and guided him to the sofa. She had him lay down and rest his head on a throw pillow and she covered him with an afghan. He protested, but she went into the adjacent room to brew him a mug of hot tea. She thought coffee would get the job done quicker in sobering him up, but she knew how much he detested the stuff. By the time she came back to him, the mug warm in her hands, he was sitting upright, clutching his head in his own.

She handed him the mug and took a careful seat atop the coffee table facing him. "Here. Drink this."

He scrunched up his nose like a little kid. "But I hate coffee."

"It's tea."

"Oh." He took a few reluctant sips, his nose still scrunched, and then looked up at Rory with a pout. "Why won't you kiss me, Ror?"

She wanted to laugh so badly and cry just as equally, but she somehow managed to keep it in. "Well, because you're drunk. And in a relationship."

He scoffed loudly. "Not anymore, I'm not."

Rory's heart dropped to her stomach and everything was uncomfortable because it wasn't uncomfortable at all. It was as if... of _course_ Jess was here at her place. Where else would he be? She fought a smile. "But what about..."

"Caroline? _Ha!_ That broad's history." He took a long gulp, finishing off the rest of the tea. "Did you know she... she..." He couldn't seem to get it out.

"She what, Jess?" Rory asked quietly, trying to help. "What did she do?"

"She_ loves_ me." He spit the _'L'_ word out like it was the nastiest thing he'd ever tasted. Rory felt her smile fade.

"Wait. She..." She shook her head. "I don't understand. You got wasted and took a two-hour bus ride to my apartment because your girlfriend... _loves_ you?"

Jess slammed the empty mug down onto the coffee table next to Rory and stayed there, hands on his knees. He was super close and his breath reeked of liquor. "She's willing to give up everything – her_ life_, her _family_, her _career!_ All for _me_." He leaned back onto the sofa. "I don't understand it. The kind of love that makes you just... _forget_ everything except that person. Or not forget, but more_ disregard_ it... put it on the back burner... act as though it doesn't matter... all for that one person. I. Just. Don't. Get. It."

_Leave it to Jess Mariano to speak so fluently, even while plastered,_ Rory thought.

She understood his rant, though. She could say with all honesty that she'd loved three times in her life thus far. And not one of those times did she ever even remotely consider giving up her dreams for that person. Maybe that was the difference between her and all the people her age who were already settled down by now. She was just like her mom in that aspect, along with countless others.

And it was like Jess read her mind. "_You_ were never that way," he said. "I loved you like crazy! And I... and sometimes I still do. But I respected you enough to let you go. Even though it was probably on the top of my list of hardest things I've ever had to do! I never wanted you to give up your career for me. You're much too talented for that."

Rory felt her cheeks flush when he said that he still loved her sometimes and then again when he called her talented, but she was quick to cool them with her hands. He was drunk; he didn't know what he was saying.

But, then again, people sometimes speak their deepest and truest thoughts when they're drunk and without filter.

She thought for a few moments before she spoke. She knew he'd most likely not remember any of this in the morning, but she somehow got the feeling that this would be the only time she'd get to really speak her mind to him for a long while, and she just couldn't pass up the opportunity.

"Maybe we're different," she finally said. "Maybe it's the norm for young couples to give everything to their relationships. But you and me... Maybe we're too much alike, you know? Both too stubborn, both too driven. Maybe that's why it's never worked out for us."

Jess leaned in again, slowly this time. "I wanted it to."

Rory nodded. Her eyes felt hot. But she would not cry. "Me, too."

They locked eyes for a too-long moment, and then Jess laid down inexplicably. "She wants me to marry her. Caroline." He closed his eyes.

Rory wished so badly that she'd heard a hint of detest in that sentence, but she hadn't. He was stating a fact, that was all. "She told you that?"

"No." He yawned. "I can just tell sometimes. I can see it on her face. She's willing to push everything else in her life aside to become Mrs. Jess Mariano. And she doesn't understand why I'm not willing to do the same for her."

Rory had a question then, one she didn't really want to know the answer to, but she couldn't stop the words from tumbling out. "Do you love her?"

Jess didn't answer, and Rory had begun to think he'd fallen asleep, and maybe that was for the best, maybe it was for the best that she'd never know his answer... And then...

"Not as much as I loved you," he said.

She was glad his eyes were closed so he wouldn't see the way she covered her face and her quivering lip and her watery eyes with her hands.

Rory sat there, perched atop the coffee table, until his breathing evened and his mouth dropped open slightly and he began softly snoring. She pulled the afghan tight around him and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead, but stopped, hovering there above him. She watched as his nostrils flared with each quiet snore, watched as his chest rose and fell with each breath. She pushed a few strands of hair out of his face, traced his jawline, then his lips. Then she kissed him, pressing her lips to his ever so gently as not to wake him, though she doubted anything would at this point. And it was Jess, and it was her... but he was out cold. And he was involved with another. And it wasn't the same.

Fluttering her eyes open, Rory awoke to the scent of coffee wafting in from the kitchen. She sat up, disoriented, and took in her surroundings. She was in the chair beside the couch, which was empty save for an afghan. Her laptop was on the floor beside the chair. Her head was propped up between the head and the arm of the chair; her feet were curled up underneath her. She blinked once, twice, three times. She idly recalled moving her editing station to the chair to keep an eye on Jess after he–

_Jess._

She turned her puzzled gaze up to the kitchen and to the source of the aroma. But he wasn't there.

She pulled herself up off the chair and all but ran to the coffeepot. And there, on the countertop, just as she'd expected, was a note scrawled in ink pen on a napkin.

_I'm sorry for imposing on you last night. And I'm sorry for anything inappropriate I might've said while intoxicated... And for anything inappropriate we might've done while I was intoxicated. I was being childish – running to you when the one I really needed to talk to was angry with me for being angry with her. Thank you for letting me stay, however. Next time you're in Philly and need a place to crash, let me know. I owe you one._

_Jess_

_P.S. Here's 5 bucks. You're out of tea._

Rory lifted the napkin and, sure enough, a folded five dollar bill lay on the counter beneath it. She smirked, shook her head, and pocketed the money.

She looked at the time above the oven. Nine am. She had no way of knowing how early he'd left; he could've easily set a timer on the coffee and slipped out.

She sighed and promised herself that she would call him later in the week to check up on him, and maybe to assure him that they hadn't done anything the night before. She never did.

* * *

Time seemed to stand still as Rory ran. She tried to get away from it, but she just couldn't seem to run fast enough. And she couldn't find the exit. She ran down the hall, turned a corner, and down another. She wasn't the most graceful runner to begin with, but just add in a dress, heels, and humiliation... and of _course_ she tripped and fell on her ankle. Of freaking course.

She hobbled into the nearest room to her right, and it was the very room she'd been in, in reality, only moments ago, but what, in her mind, seemed like days. Horrible, agonizing, humiliating days. She'd run in a circle.

Frustrated, she wrenched the shoe off of her sore foot and flung it across the room. And when the thud it produced against the wall made her feel an ounce better, she flung the other one, too.

She sat down on the sofa against the near wall and leaned her head back, slumped her shoulders. How could she have let this happen? But more importantly... what amount of trouble had she caused?

She sighed, rubbing circles into her temples with her fingers. She wanted so desperately just to run... to run so far from this place that no one would remember her face, her name, her crime. But her ankle was throbbing. And no one was going to forget.

"Rory...? Rory!"

There was no way...

"Rory?!"

She heard the voice echoing through the halls outside the door, but she dared not believe...

"Rory!"

_Surely_ he didn't leave the wedding... _Surely_ he didn't leave Caroline... _Surely_ he didn't..._ Surely_...

The door handle spun.

Rory clenched her eyes shut as he walked in, hopeful that somehow if she couldn't see him, then he couldn't see her either.

"Rory, what the _hell?!_"

Rory didn't open her eyes. She didn't say anything. She used all of her might to will herself to disappear. And when Jess, in turn, didn't say anything for a few moments, she thought maybe she'd succeeded.

"Dammit, Rory, _look at me!_"

No, she couldn't have possibly been so lucky.

"I don't want to." Apparently she was both unlucky _and_ immature.

"Yeah, and apparently you're the queen of the whole damn world and you just get to do whatever the hell you want, don't you?!"

Rory literally flinched at that, but she didn't protest. It was a low blow, but it was nothing but the truth. She was a dictator. Selfish. Greedy. And she despised herself. And she was mentally prepared for the beating. She deserved it. So, she didn't stop him; she continued to let the blows come. She was sure they would come.

"You can't just_ do this_, Rory!" He ripped the bowtie off his neck and threw it to the ground between them. "_God!_ You come here, you wreck my wedding, you ruin my last and probably _only_ chance of having a happy life and a steady, meaningful relationship... just because you _want to?!_ And for_ what!?_ An adrenaline rush? Huh? A little attention? Was that it? Huh?! _Answer me!_"

She didn't answer.

"What, was Miss Gilmore bored, all alone in her little apartment? Did she get all caught up on the DVR and needed some fresh entertainment? Or was she just lonely? 'Cause we all know she just can't survive without each and every person in her life bowing down to her to account for her every little need–"

"_Enough,_ Jess!" She stood angrily. She was wrong, she wasn't going to take this lashing. "_I know_ what I did was wrong, okay? It was a mistake, I'm sorry, I'm human... But I did the mature thing! Or, maybe the immature thing, depending on your viewpoint, but I_ left,_ okay?! I stood, I came to my senses, and I _left!_ I didn't force you to choose! I didn't force you to do anything! And what about you? You come here, you yell at me, you reprise your utter disdain for my very existence... But what about _you? _Huh?! _I'm_ not the only one at fault here, Jess! _You_ left your wedding! _You_ chased after me!_ You_ _walked out on your bride, Jess!_ And I didn't make you do that! I didn't make you do that! You did that_ on your own!_"

Rory sucked in a deep and shaky breath as Jess gave her the most diverse look he'd ever given her – full of astonishment, madness, insanity, regret, confusion, and fear... and all at once.

"_Dammit,_ Jess!" she exclaimed bitterly, but still she sunk down into the sofa, her head in her hands, her ankle throbbing even worse now that she'd momentarily disregarded its well-being for a stance of firmness in her point of view.

Why did she let him get to her this way? He always brought out her rash side, her impulsive side, and she wasn't sure if she liked it. But he was like gravity, constantly pulling her towards him and leaving her powerless to refuse it.

"And what..." She heard him speak, but she wasn't looking at him, or the floor, or anything. She just stared absentmindedly at Jess's discarded bowtie. Had he even registered a word she'd said? He was going to continue to blame all this on her, wasn't he?

He chuckled darkly. Yes, apparently he was.

"What gives you the right, yenno? To come here all lovely and smiling at me and to look breathtakingly beautiful and to have me watching my bride walk down the aisle looking the most perfect she has ever looked, and I can't even look her in the eye because I feel so guilty for wishing it was _you!_"

_What? No..._

"And why did I even invite you, anyway?" he asked now, but not to Rory, it seemed, but to himself. "I guess I just... I guess I just wanted to see you one last time? To... I don't know... _convince_ myself that I was making the right decision? Getting married... That we were over..._ Long over_... That it could never possibly work out between the two of us... And then the vows start and I forget about you..._ I forget about you..._ And it's only Caroline... _It's only her..._ And I love her, I do! And I wanna marry her. I want it to be me and her forever. For good. No more 'what if's, no more heartache, no more _you..._ And then you... You..."

And as Jess spoke this monologue to the walls and floors and furnishings surrounding them, all the stitches Rory had used to mend her heart from the rips and tears he'd made and she'd made and they'd made together over the years,_ so many years,_ and they'd hurt each other, hurt each other, _hurt each other,_ the stitches popped out one by one and she was bleeding, bleeding,_ bleeding..._

But when she looked up, the pain she'd formerly heard in his voice was gone, and it was replaced by the fire in his eyes.

"You stood up. Rory..._ Why did you stand up?!_"

She shook her head slowly. Left, right, left. "I don't..."

He took a few quick steps toward her on the sofa, pointing at her. "Don't say you don't know! You do know; you _do_ know! You know, because_ I_ know! And Caroline knows, and your mom knows, and Luke knows, and, dammit, _everybody_ knows!"

Rory pulled her eyes away from his, feeling the heat burning behind her own and the tears stinging and, _no,_ she wouldn't cry... She wouldn't cry...

And then he saw her tears and they broke him like they always did, and he suddenly sunk to the floor. "I walked out of my wedding," he said quietly, and Rory hoped in vain that the worst was over.

She wanted to ask why, why, _why_ would he do that?! Why would he just jeopardize everything on a whim? But she didn't want him to start yelling at her again about things she knows and they know and everyone knows... And hadn't she done the same exact thing? Jeopardized everything on a silly little whim? That wasn't like her. Like Lorelai, sure, but not like Rory. Rory was level-headed, Rory was even-tempered, Rory was bullet points and pro/con lists and plans and punctuality. Rory was not _that_ girl.

But maybe she was. At least when a certain dark-eyed hoodlum was involved.

And then the dark-eyed hoodlum's head wasn't in his hands anymore and he was looking up at her and she was the villain again. "Well, aren't you gonna say anything? Don't you even _care?_ I walked out on my bride! I threw everything away... all that planning... all that money... Because of_ you!_"

Rory's mouth dropped open and her tears stopped on command and she couldn't believe what she was hearing. The planning? The money? _That's_ what he was worried about!? All his effort going to waste? Not Caroline... not the love... not the commitment... but the _inconvenience_ of it all? She could've scoffed at him, and she was glad when she didn't.

"_God,_ Jess, _of course_ I care! I'm just trying to process, that's all... I mean..." She shook her head at him again, insistent upon understanding. She willed her voice to be softer, sweeter. "Why? Why did you leave? You... you could be married right now, you _should_ be married right now..."

"Why did you stand up?"

She locked eyes with him finally, and the pain was back, which was somehow so much worse than the anger. And she didn't have an answer to give him. Nor did she suspect that he was actually even expecting one.

He sighed – a long, drawn out, 'giving up' kind of sigh. And, finally, the storm was over. "Exactly."

There was silence then between the two, and Rory was finally able to think. What did any of this mean? Was she glad he'd left his wedding? Of course not. He was a right fool. But was she unhappy he'd left his wedding? The fluttering of her heartbeat begged to differ.

Did she still love him?

Had she ever really stopped?

"She reminded me of you, you know."

Rory looked up at Jess slowly, and that's all she did.

"On our first date, that blind date... That's why I asked her out a second time. She reminded me of you." He looked down at the floor, shook his head, smirked. "I don't know if it was the laugh, or the eyes, or what... But she was a reader... and a writer. And she's ambitious – she wants to really do something with her life, really make a difference. And she's not as smart as you – no one's as smart as you – but she's creative. And when she starts talking about her work or her newest idea or the latest book she read, she gets this fire behind her eyes... And that's something I've only ever seen one other time."

He looked up and made eye contact with Rory, and she could've whimpered. She was pathetic.

"But then she wasn't like you, at all, yenno? I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. But when I would do something stupid, when I would screw up, we wouldn't fight, we wouldn't argue... We'd hardly even talk about it! And she wouldn't make me leave or sleep on the couch, or anything. She'd just nod and purse her lips and she'd get all pale, and then she'd go and cry alone in the bathroom, and when she came out we'd go to sleep together in our bed and we'd wake up the next morning and pretend it didn't even happen! Like that time I got drunk and took the bus to you and stayed the night there? She thought I slept with you, cheated on her, and I couldn't even tell her for sure that I didn't because I wasn't a hundred percent sure myself! And we didn't even hash it out – no name-calling, no lamp-throwing, no nothing! We just... _went to bed!_

"God, and she's _so_ freaking predictable, _every damn time!_ There was no passion, no spontaneity, no rush... And I thought, at first, that that was a good thing, stability, because you and I never had that, that comfort in knowing that whenever we came home from work in the evening that the other would still be there. And then I thought... I shouldn't even be comparing her to you! Because she was real, and she was here, and you weren't, Rory... You weren't."

Her heart sunk. He was right. She wasn't there. She could've been, but she chose the easy way out. She left him. And that's when she realized that she was the cause of not only the wrecking of the wedding, but also the wedding in itself! Because she knew, deep down inside, somehow, somewhere, she knew. That if she'd never left, if she'd stayed with him, it would've been _them_ getting married here today. Or, not _here_, but some place else. Some place better. Her eyes starting burning again.

She needed to say something. She needed to say something, quick, anything, before she started crying again, or worse, _he_ started crying, which, judging by the look on his face, was an extreme possibility. "You never talk this much," was all her idiotic brain could come up with.

He made a noise that was part sigh, part chuckle, part scoff, and then he agreed with her. "I never talk this much." He ran his fingers through his hair. His hand ended up on the back of his neck and he left it there. He was cross-legged now, sitting Indian-style on the blue carpet of the groom's room. Rory thought how small he looked, how childish, even despite the suit, how... broken.

"I could probably just waltz right on back in there, right now, and get on my knees and apologize, and she'd probably just forgive me! And marry me! And then we'd go to Utah–"

"Utah? What's in _Utah?_" she asked, trying to ignore the squeezing feeling in her gut when Jess realized the possibility of him returning to Caroline.

"–and then we'd go to bed together and wake up in the morning married and pretend that none of this had ever happened! And then we'd go on for the rest of our lives, married, and never talk about it!" He was angry now; he slammed a fist into the carpet. "_Plateaus!_ That's what's in Utah."

"Plateaus," Rory said matter-of-factly, yet dubiously, somehow.

Jess waved his hand through the air, brushing the thought away. "There's lots of national parks in Utah. Canyons, junk like that. Caroline's into nature."

"Yet another thing we have in common." She made a joke. How could she possibly be making a joke at a time like this? Well, she _was_ her mother's daughter.

And then the air shifted entirely, and Jess's gaze turned from agitated to pensive to anxious. And she knew it was coming, she knew it,_ she knew it_, and there was nothing she could do to stop it but will it not to come,_ not to come,_ please, please,_ please_ don't come...

"Do you love me?"

It came.

She shook her head swiftly. "Jess..."

His look was stern. "No, Rory. I need to know, I... I need to know I didn't wreck my wedding for nothing. And I_ especially_ need to know if I did."

She sighed – a heavy, confused sigh. "I don't know," she said meekly, pathetically.

"Rory..."

She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry, I'm... I'm no good under pressure."

"But that's not true!" He was on his knees now, almost eye-level with her, a mere five feet away. "You do your best when you're under pressure! Think about when you have a big article due. Your editor's expecting it to be great, you had to pull a ton of strings to get those interviews, your research is squeaky clean, your deadline's coming up and you've still got so much left to do... And somehow, you get it all done, and then some! And you're not just thinking about _you_ and writing a good article, but you're thinking about your editor and trying to make it as error-free as possible so he'll have less work to do to revise your piece, you're thinking about the subjects of the article and representing them well enough that they'll be proud to have their name in the paper, in _your_ paper, and you're thinking about how long the article needs to be to get the full point across, but not _too_ long so that the layout editors have trouble fitting it next to the articles that it's supposed to fit next to. And you succeed in every aspect, all while under serious amounts of pressure!"

Rory found herself grinning at Jess's accurate depiction of a regular work week for her. "You never talk this much," she said again.

He inched forward, closer to her. Her breath caught in her throat. She wished it wouldn't do that.

He lifted his arms and placed his hands on either side of her on the sofa. Her heart was pounding, and suddenly she felt nauseous. Was he wearing cologne? He was. And it was _way_ too sweet. Not at all Jess-like. Why hadn't she noticed it before?

"How about I ask you a simpler question?" His voice was soft, careful.

She swallowed and nodded once.

"Do you want... to be with me?"

She opened her mouth to answer him, but he went on. "And I don't mean, like... _'be with me'_, be with me... but _really_ be with me. Like, _us_..._ together_... and no one else. And no more giving up, no more wimping out. If something's wrong, we make it right. If something's not working, we fix it." He looked down at his arm, slid it over to touch the edge of her wrist. And when he looked up, the look on his face... She wanted to kiss him. She almost did.

He smirked when she sucked in a quiet breath, inched forward, and her lips parted slightly. "You and me," he said. "For good. How does that sound?"

She let out her breath. "It's never worked before."

"It _can_ this time, though. It will. It has to."

Her voice was quiet. "And if it doesn't?"

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and flipped her hand over, tracing the lines of her palm with rough fingertips, calloused from gripping the spines of books and gripping the bodies of pencils and feverishly typing up words and sentences and novellas. She shivered and he smirked again. "Then at least we can say we gave it everything."

And the next time he looked up, his smirk was gone. Bravely, she pulled her hand from his and brought it up to his face. God, it had been so long since she'd touched him last. He closed his eyes and turned to press his lips into her palm.

"You love Caroline," she said.

"No," he said and kissed her palm again. "I loved the parts of her that reminded me of you. I love..._ you._"

He opened his eyes then, and she could feel him trembling slightly beneath her touch. So uncharacteristic. He was nervous again.

"I love you," he said again, as if he didn't quite believe himself the first time. His brows were pulled together in confusion, as if this was brand new information that had just been made known to him. "I _love_ you."

She watched him, wide-eyed, her heart in her throat, and he was so, _so_ beautiful... She brought her free hand up to his other cheek and leaned in slowly, cautiously, and touched her forehead to his. She closed her eyes and they stayed that way for a few moments, foreheads touching, her hands on his face and his arms on the sofa at her sides, breathing the same air. He got brave and slid his hands up her hips and rested them on her waist, his fingers taunting her, and her breaths got quicker.

She mustered up the courage to speak. "Jess?" She opened her eyes, but his remained closed.

"Mmm?"

Another breath. "I wanna be with you."

And in one swift movement, his mouth was on hers and his grip on her waist was tight and he was standing and pulling her up with him and she wanted to protest because of her ankle but he was warm and he felt good and she didn't care, she didn't care,_ she didn't care._ Until he pulled her entirely to her feet and she winced and he felt it beneath his lips and he stopped and she winced again because she didn't want him to stop, not now, not ever.

The look on his face was so transparently worried that she almost laughed. "What? What's wrong? How could I have possibly screwed this up already? This is the part we're good at!"

And at that, she really laughed. "It's my ankle. I kind of... tripped on the way here."

He looked down at her foot to try to hide his smirk. "You tripped?"

"Yeah, um... Me, running, heels... not a good mix."

"Well may I advise that next time you plan to object to a marriage and ruin the wedding that you wear sneakers."

He was kidding, she knew, but that didn't mean she felt any less worse. "I'm so sorry," she breathed out and looked down sheepishly.

He cupped her head in his hands, thumbs beneath her jaw, fingers spread out behind her head, into her hair, forcing her to look up at him. "_I'm_ not," he murmured, and her lips parted in expectation as he leaned in...

And then he pulled back. "Why aren't you here with Gabriel?" he asked accusingly.

She forced a small smile of what she hoped was reassurance. "He reminded me too much of you," she said playfully, not wanting to start up another conversation. She'd made her decision, and now she just wanted to kiss him. "I had to kick him out."

"Bad reminder of someone you didn't necessarily want to be reminded of?" His tone reeked of sarcasm, but she could see the hint of hurt behind his eyes, as she'd learned to see past the 'tough guy' exterior and through the mask of apathy long ago.

"Not at all," she said, running her thumb across his cheek. He was such a good kisser... She just wanted to kiss him! "It hurt too much that he was there, and you weren't."

He smiled at her for the second time that day, that heart-wrenching, knee-buckling, 'pretty boy' smile. "Oh, yeah?"

She smiled back. "Yeah."

"Huh." And then, finally, he kissed her. And kissed her. And kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her.

And then the door flew open.

_"Aww, jeez..."_

* * *

**A/n: **This part's already a thousand words longer than part one, and I still think I have more that I wanna say, so I guess there's gonna be a part three 'cause I thought this would be a fun part to end it at. I know, right? You're welcome.


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